


Be Still

by butchdeloria



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins, Stolen Throne, The Stolen Throne - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, maric paces a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butchdeloria/pseuds/butchdeloria
Summary: Maric has a lot of feelings. Short little fic I wrote for my boyfriend.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wardenbot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardenbot/gifts).



Maric paced behind his tent, hands gesticulating wildly to accompany the faint murmur of his words. He stopped to pinch at the bridge of his nose; this shouldn’t be so difficult.

How many days had it been now since he’d noticed the faint pull in his chest drawing him closer and closer to Loghain? In retrospect, he supposed he should have noticed the ‘signs’ earlier on, but he’d been far too busy with the whirlwind following him everywhere since he stumbled out of the trees covered in his Mother’s blood. With Loghain at his side, but not the Loghain he’d come to know now. He stilled, lamenting the memory of his Mother for a moment, Loghain’s Father had followed so soon after. Maker, they’d both lost more than most bear, shouldn’t they be allowed this small comfort in the grand scheme of things?

The walk to Loghain’s tent seemed much farther than it had any right to be. He’d nearly convinced himself to double back several times; but no, this had to be done, he couldn’t stand to let it fester inside himself unanswered for any longer.

He found Loghain within his tent pouring over a pair of maps despite the setting sun. The Ranger didn’t grace him with any acknowledgement when he entered, save for a questioning raise of his brows.

“There’s something I need to speak with you about,” Maric began, hands balled into fists nervously at his sides.

A faint “hmmm?” escaped Loghain, his fingertips traveling over etchings of mountains and pathways.

He huffed taking a step closer, “It’s serious,” he eyed the maps briefly. He wanted- needed, Loghain’s full attention.

Loghain sighed, tilting his head toward Maric, his eyes poorly feigning patience, “Let’s hear it then."

“Right, well,” Maric cleared his throat, “there’s something you should know. It’s been bothering me for some time, and I feel I need to share it out of… fairness.” His brow pinched together, cursing himself for his poor rehearsal. “Ah- you see, I’ve been thinking about things lately, things that affect the both of us. Well, affect you more than me- er, I hope anyway. It’s been some time for me personally, hah. Which is why this is likely going to turn into a rant, instead of what I’d hoped it’d be,” Maric laughed bitterly, shaking his head and pressing on. “We spend so much of our time focusing on battle, and duty- we just don’t ever seem to get any to ourselves and when we do we waste it doing things like,” he gestured to the maps.

The corners of Loghain’s mouth twitched, seemingly offended by the notion, “I’m serious, what is going on here? We have someone to chart for us it’s just unnecessary for you to even-”

“Maric,” Loghain drawled, interrupting him, or trying to.

“-sitting here looking at them. Surely there are other hobbies you must have to occupy your time like-”

“Maric.”

“What?” He asked, exasperated.

“You’re pacing,” Loghain pointed out, gaze following Maric’s movements to the other side of the tent.

“I’m- oh,” Maric stopped, lips pursing in a tight line. “I’ve got a lot to say,” he said, trying to explain it away.

“It’s exhausting.”

“You’re exhausting,” he muttered in return, hand moving to rub the back of his neck- and when had it become so hot in here? He didn’t doubt a flush had managed to spread itself from his nose to his ears. Maric knew it’d be folly to hope Loghain wouldn’t notice. Those damn eyes saw everything. Had he- did he know already? The possibility made Maric’s stomach flip in on itself.

Loghain’s attention dropped again, shifting the parchment in his lap. “Come here. I have something to show you,” he said, head tipping to beckon him.

Maric frowned, not eager to get too off track and lose what courage he hadn’t already wasted, but strode over regardless. He turned at Loghain’s side, peering down at the scrawled images with his arms folded across his chest. “That’s lovely Loghain but I’d really like to get back to-”

The words died on his lips, no thanks in part to suddenly having his wrist yanked down enough for Loghain’s mouth to reach his. Loghain’s mouth- Maric stared at Loghain’s closed lids in shock, slowly giving in to the rough press of lips on his. Loghain proved to be gentler than he’d imagined, even with the hard determination behind his administrations he still moved in a way capable of making Maric feel treasured, important. Something beneath his ribs swelled, relief maybe, and he let himself be guided to the bed’s edge.

He gripped Loghain’s shoulder, separating them out of a need for air more than anything. His breaths came out shaky, accompanied with a small laugh. When he opened his eyes he saw Loghain shooting him his irritated look. His fingers curled around Maric’s waist like he thought Maric might try to straighten up and leave.

“I still have much to say, you’re very rude in interrupting me.”

“You always have much to say. It’s dreadful,” Loghain droned back, gaze flicking over Maric’s features, notably his plush, kiss-swollen lips.

“It’s quite the speech, you’d be impressed.”

Loghain shifted closer, hand on Maric’s waist snaking around to his back, “There are far simpler ways to impress me.”

Maric touched his forehead to Loghain’s, nose bumping into the raised bridge of his companions. He chuckled warmly, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You haven’t even made dinner for me yet.”

“I have cooked numerous times for-”

He turned his head, stopping Loghain mid-sentence. Maric decided he liked the startled sound Loghain made when his words were halted: annoyed but pleased nonetheless. His hand drifted up to Loghain’s temple, carding through black tresses with a teasing tug. “See? Rude,” he mouthed against Loghain’s chin.

Sighing, Loghain grunted out a, “Shut up.” His free hand cupped Maric’s jaw, bringing their mouths back together hungrily.

Maric parted his lips, allowing Loghain the opening he sought. The first slide of their tongues, almost tentative in its grazing, drew a soft sigh out of his nostrils. He never wanted to leave this moment.

Distantly, he heard the faint sound of papers settling to the floor.


End file.
